


Collared

by Jake_the_TransGuy_FTM



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Dom John Watson, Don't Judge Me, Don't Like Don't Read, Dubious Consent, How Do I Tag, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Sorry, Light BDSM, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Sub Sherlock Holmes, Top John Watson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 21:05:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7986181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jake_the_TransGuy_FTM/pseuds/Jake_the_TransGuy_FTM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is collared by John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Collared

Sherlock nestled into John's chest. He breathed deep, inhaling the smell of John fresh from the shower. It was this time after the cases that he truly loved. Sherlock would melt into John within seconds of the case being finished off, allowing someone else to take control.

A strong hand stroked his back as the tv provided a muted background babble. Sherlock sighed happily, listening to the calm heartbeat beneath his ear. "Happy birthday," he mumbled.  
John kissed the back of his head. "Thanks, now go to sleep. Tonight is going to be a long night."

Sherlock's brow furrowed. He wasn't quite sure what that meant, but at the moment, sleep sounded amazing as John's deep breathing lulled him into slumber.

Twelve hours later, Sherlock stepped out of the shower. They had gone out to dinner with the guys and Mycroft for John's birthday, but John had wanted to go back to the hotel room afterwards. Disappointment had rippled through the group as they thought for sure it was going to be a long, drunk night, but Mycroft headed them off, clearly aware of the way John wanted to spend his birthday night.

Sherlock walked out into the hotel room, a towel around his waist as he dried his hair. A wrapped medium size box lay on the bed. "Someone send you a birthday present?" he asked John who was stretched out on the bed scanning the tv channels.

John grinned at him. "No, that's for you."

Sherlock tossed the towel he was using to dry his hair back into the bathroom. "For me? My birthday was weeks ago."   
John clicked off the tv. "Just open it."

Curious now, Sherlock picked up the box as John scooted up to sit on the side of the bed, taking the towel from Sherlock's waist leaving him naked.

Ripping open the packaging, he revealed a simple blue box. "It looks like a jewelry box, John."

"Just open it."

Sherlock looked at him quizzically, flipping open the hinged lid. "It's a dog collar and a leash."

"No its not." He picked up the collar and leash, dropping the box down on the bed. It did seem awful nice to be a dog collar... "It's a Sherlock collar."

Sherlock quirked an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

John stood up, taking the collar and attached leash from his hands. Carefully he put it around Sherlock's neck and fastened it. "It's a Sherlock collar." Taking the leash in his hand, he pulled, bringing the collared man closer to him with the leash, capturing his lips. "Now we can finally rein you in when you're going to do something stupid."

Sherlock snorted. "Very funny." He reached up to take the collar off, but was stopped by John yanking on the leash. "Ow, John , what the fuck?"

John grinned. "I didn't say you could take that off."

Shane started to argue but quickly stopped himself, realizing where this game was going.  
"Its my birthday. And you told me that I'll get whatever I want for my birthday."

Sherlock nodded. "But you never told me."

John lay back on the bed, guiding Sherlock to follow him on his hands and knees. "Can you guess what I want now?"

John grinned devilishly as Sherlock leaned down and kissed him. "Yeah, I think I get it."  
Sherlock sat naked on John's legs, running his hands up underneath his shirt, pushing it up his body. Skin and muscle quivered under his touch as his fingers worked the shirt up over John's head.

Pulling the leash tight, John yanked Sherlock's face down to his. Inches apart, he whispered, "Tonight's going to be a new experiment."

Sherlock shivered involuntarily at the tone of John's voice, his body responding to the unspoken command, itching with desire as the leash was let loose allowing him to sit up again. They had never brought in any real fetishes. He never knew that John had wanted this, or even thought about something like this. As blunt fingernails raked over the bare skin of his chest, he made a mental note to dig deeper into John's fetishes tomorrow. "Do we have a safe word?" Sherlock asked.

John lay silent, hands on Sherlock's thighs. He hadn't thought of that. "No, what do you want it to be?"

Sherlock thought for a minute. "Pickle."

John snorted. "Pickle? Seriously?"

Sherlock grumbled. "Yes pickle, and you're out of character."

Quickly, John yanked hard on the leash again, catching Sherlock off guard. Catching himself, hands splayed out on the bed next to John's head, Sherlock gave him a dirty look. "Pickle," he spat out. "That was unnecessary."

John grinned, pulling the leash taut so Sherlock's face was just above his again. Lips barely touching his captive's, he whispered, "No pickle. You're my bitch tonight."

That statement. Sherlock thought for a split second he could have came right there. The desire and intention in John's eyes as he said it lit a fire that spread through his body. With the leash still taut, John pushed it down, forcing Sherlock to slide down his body. "Now suck my dick," he whispered huskily.

Sherlock tried not to laugh. He wasn't used to John being so dominant and it was kind of funny. This wasn't his quiet and respectful John, which made it slightly more intimidating. He used his hands to unbutton his pants, but grinned as he leaned down, taking the zipper pull in his mouth. A familiar trick that he knew John loved elicited a groan. John's hips raised off the bed as Sherlock pulled his pants and boxers down, leaving him naked beneath him. He considered challenging him. There was no doubt that he could easily overpower him, shove John down into the mattress like he had so many times before. But now he was giving up complete control. Taking commands even.

Flicking his tongue out, Sherlock traced the vein up before taking the swollen head between his lips. It was a taste he knew well. A saltiness mixed with a hint of sweet. He heard John's deep inhale as Sherlock began to suck, his tongue massaging as he worked his head down. Hands carded through his hair as he worked, eyes closed, hands on John's hips holding him still. Those hands in his hair stilled, hesitated, and pushed his head down. Sherlock gasped, his eyes popping open in response. The cock suddenly jammed down his throat caused him to gag, spit sliding down the shaft to the soft curls at the base. Within seconds, John let him up. Sherlock sat back on his legs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand staring hard down at John. "Pickle."

"You can't pickle everything," John whispered, his voice at least two octaves deeper than normal.

"I can pickle whatever I want to pickle!" Sherlock started to stand, but John was quicker.

He yanked the leash, wrestling the younger man down onto the bed and holding him here, hands above his head. "I'm not giving you a choice," he smiled.

A chill ran over his naked body as John loomed above him. This was definitely a side of John that Sherlock had never seen. He knew John could get demanding and needy at times, but this was so different it scared him into obedience. Hips grinded down against his as a wet, soft tongue danced around his earlobe. Sherlock's eyes rolled into the back of his head as his hands were let loose. John reached down beside the bed, pulling up a long back cord. Casually, he fastened the cuff around Sherlock's left wrist before reaching down and grabbing the other cord. With Sherlock securely fastened to the bed, John stood up. "John," he whined, pulling at his restraints. "Pickle."

John rolled his eyes. "I'm taking away your safe word. In fact..." He paused and went over to his suitcase, pulling out a small black bag and bringing it back over to the bed. "I'm taking away all of your words." Unzipping it, he pulled out a ballgag.

"John, what the fuck? Where the hell did you get that? What else is in there?" Sherlock asked nervously, trying to see inside the small bag before it was re-zipped.

John shrugged and smirked, climbing back on the bed, straddling Sherlock's naked body. "You'll find out soon. Its stuff I've been saving for tonight. Now open your mouth."

Obediently, Sherlock opened as the plastic ball was pushed between his lips. John lifted his head to fasten it, effectively cutting off the line of questioning along with the demanding "Pickle!" every five minutes. "That's better," he said.

Sherlock's brow furrowed. He was starting to really not like this, not that it mattered now. This was the exact wrong moment to figure out that he didn't want to play this game anymore. John sat on Sherlock's legs- the only unrestrained appendage left. Smiling, he admired the naked man laid out before him. "Never thought I'd actually be able to get you in this position."

Mumbled words tried to escape around the ballgag but John simply shook his head. "No, you talk too much already. We need to give that mouth a rest. I have some plans for that later."

Sherlock sighed. It was useless to fight against his restraints and try to wrestle this obstruction off. Though he was curious as to where John was taking this. He had always enjoyed sex with John, fucking loved sex with John, but he had taken this to a new level and Sherlock filed this away in his memory. Payback is a bitch.

John got off the bed, going over to the black bag once again. Unzipping it, he glanced up at Sherlock's reaction but he couldn't take his eyes away. Sherlock's body was relaxed against the bed, his legs spread out, hands tied to the mattress, eyes never leaving John, watching every movement. Pulling out a small black piece of plastic and hiding it in his hand, he set the bag on the foot of the bed and climbed back up between Sherlock's open legs. "You are beautiful," he whispered. Leaning down, he kissed the side of Sherlock's mouth, avoiding the leather strap of the ballgag. "You know I won't hurt you."

Reaching over to the nightstand, he picked up the lube, popping it open and spreading a small amount on his finger. A small noise escaped from the back of Sherlock's throat through the ballgag as he spread his legs a little wider. John smiled down at him as his finger found the tight pucker, dancing around it, spreading the lube, before dipping in, finger fucking him slowly with his index finger. Sherlock moaned deep, breathing deeply, blue eyes locking with John's emerald greens. "Think you're going to get fucked now?" Sherlock nodded but John shook his head. "Not yet. It's my birthday and I'm so not done with you yet."

Groaning, Sherlock closed his eyes, pushing his head back into the pillow as another finger entered him, fucking him excruciatingly slow. John grinned devilishly, running his other hand down the strong chest, resting it around the base of Sherlock's cock without actually touching it. Sherlock opened his eyes, baby blues begging. Mumbled words came around the ballgag that John recognized as "Please, John."  
Removing his fingers, Sherlock found out exactly what it was that was pulled out of the black bag. The plug was shoved in roughly. A look of surprise came over Sherlock's face at the new intrusion. John grinned down at him. "Stretch you out."

Stretching himself over the body laid out under him, John removed the ballgag, kissing him quickly. "No pickle."

"No pickle," Sherlock mumbled, stretching his jaw out. "That hurt," he whimpered.

John smiled slightly, running his hand over Sherlock's hair. "I'm sorry, but you were driving me insane."

Sherlock craned his head up, capturing John's lips again, moving his hips up in the process, grinding their cocks together. Laying his head back down, he whispered, "I trust you."

"Good," John answered. "But I think you owe me something." Sherlock quirked an eyebrow. "You didn't finish what you started earlier." He climbed up the restrained body, resting his knees right under Sherlock's armpits. Sherlock smiled and opened his mouth.

Leaning his hands against the wall behind the bed, John gently pushed the head of his cock between the waiting lips. Massaging the underside with his tongue, Sherlock moaned as the head brushed the back of his throat before retreating.

"Fuck, Sherlock," John moaned, quickening his pace. Taking one hand from the wall, he ran his fingers through the light brown hair before grabbing it and holding the head still. "Relax," he commanded, pushing his hips forward, shoving his cock down Sherlock's throat.

Sherlock gagged, glaring up at John with watery eyes, pulling on his handcuffs. Pulling back, John stroked his forehead with his thumb, fingers still in his hair. "I told you relax. You're lucky I'm warning you," he grumbled before pushing his hips forward again. Sherlock gagged again, closing his eyes this time, relenting. A few more strokes and he had the hang of it, relaxing his throat as the heat stroked down his throat, sucking as it retreated. John watched as his dick disappeared between the soft lips, pulling away before he came.

Sliding back down Sherlock's body, resting his ass between his open legs, John tried to regain his composure, though watching the man in front of him was countering his will. Sherlock's chest heaved, a mix of precum and spit dripping down the side of his face. The fight seemed to be completely gone in him. John pushed on the plug shoved in his ass. "How's this feel now?"

Sherlock's back arched on the bed, a low deep moan coming from his chest. "Fuck, John."

"I guess it's good then, huh?" John grinned devilishly.

"I'd rather it be your cock."

John stood up from the bed, picking up the black bag and shaking it. "It will be soon, but I wonder what else I have in here..."

Sherlock's eyebrows raised at the clanking sounds as the bag shook. Unzipping it, John pulled out a long, thick blue dildo. Approaching the bed with it, the grin never left his face.  
Sherlock's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, but no word of protest escaped him. The bed dipped as John climbed up between his legs. Taking out the plug, he tossed it off the foot of the bed onto the floor. "I think you're loose enough for this," he whispered, resting the head at his entrance. Sherlock held his breath and clenched his eyes shut as he was breached. It was bigger than John was, definitely. He tried to not flex and tighten his muscle as more of the blue disappeared within him. John paused and Sherlock dared to breathe again. "How do you feel?" John asked him.

Sherlock's mouth was suddenly dry. He flexed his hands that were falling asleep in the cuffs and tried to not move his hips a lot. His cock throbbed against his stomach; balls heavy. "Full... and horny," he choked out.

Slowly, John started to pull the dildo out and pushed it back again. Sherlock writhed on the bed the deeper it was pushed in. "John...," he groaned.

Getting a good hold on the base, he pulled it almost all the way out before starting a punishing rhythm. Sherlock arched off the bed, trying to get away, moans and screams filling the air. Moments of torture ended as John yanked the dildo out, tossing it to the floor with the plug. Sherlock's body gingerly came back to rest on the bed. His whole body was on fire. "John...,"he whimpered.

John climbed over the battered, restrained body. All of the resistance was completely gone from Sherlock. "Are you ready for me now?" he asked.

Sherlock hesitated but nodded, pulling on his restraints a little. Slowly, John slipped in, bending down and kissing him. "Love you," he whispered.

"Love you," Sherlock responded, wrapping his legs around the back of John's thighs.

As John set his rhythm, Sherlock's body ignited. Every touch, every stroke, every motion, had him begging for more, begging for a release. Eyes locked together, John reached a hand between their bodies, lithe fingers wrapping around the swollen cock between them. Sherlock screamed at the first upstroke. It was too much; his mind was spinning; his body begging for release so it would all stop. John watched the emotions play out across his face, feeling his body respond underneath him. "Cum for me, Sherlock."

Pale muscle flexed, pulling the cords of the attached handcuffs to their limit as his body tightened itself, released hot spurts of liquid across his stomach. Hot muscle clenched around John's cock, buried deep within the convulsing body. "Fuck," John groaned out as he released his own orgasm deep within the man beneath him.

Coming down from their high, John reached up, releasing the cuffs around Sherlock's wrists and the collar around his neck, rubbing his shoulders, kissing him softly. "I'll give you a massage later," he whispered, rolling off of him.

Sherlock groaned, sitting up and wincing. His whole body hurt now, his ass and arms especially. "Hope you enjoyed your birthday."

John grinned, picking up the toys from the floor and wrapping them in a towel. "I did. Now get your ass in the shower, you're getting cum all over the sheets."

Sherlock groaned, rolling off the bed, his legs wobbling as he stood up, but John was there at his side. "You ok?"

"Abused, but I'm fine."

John wrapped his arm around his waist, kissing the side of his head. "Let's shower together then. I don't need you falling in there."

Sherlock sighed as John rested him against the shower wall, starting the hot stream of water. "So for your next birthday, can you warn me about what you want?"

John turned him, rubbing soap over his back and down across his abused ass. "Now what would be the fun in that?"


End file.
